


New Wave

by Accuni



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Cyberverse
Genre: Established Relationship, Fake Flirting, Kissing, M/M, PDA, Pre-War, Roleplay, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, in the second part, kind of, they just want an excuse to gush over each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-20 10:47:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20674121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Accuni/pseuds/Accuni
Summary: It just so happens that Maccadam's might be the place to meet the mech of your dreams.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A small-ish drabble, wanted some stupid and lovey young MegOp, and I've been consumed by Cyberverse for giving me so many ideas.  
They’re already together in this, just playing along to some game ;)

Maccadam’s was packed full of what seemed like every mech in Iacon - it always was during and right after the big cube matches, everyone crowding around to watch the games and mingle with their friends. Though it wasn’t really the place for data clerks who just wanted to relax after a long shift, Optimus found his reasons to show up anyway.

Reasons like that of the mech casually leaning against the bar by himself, broad back facing the crowd.

Optimus took his time, slowly making his way through the loud, energized groups. He was pushed a few times by overexcited mech, but it didn’t deter him one bit, as his focus was tuned in on one single point. If anyone had called his name over the roar of the bar, he paid them no mind. Nearing the counter, he made a turn at the last second, finding a spot on the side adjacent of his goal. He wasn’t nervous, he just wanted time to think about his first impression.

It wasn’t everyday a simple worker like him got to meet a gladiator. 

Maccadam noticed him as he took an empty seat, and brought over a cube of his favorite distilled energon, which he sat and sipped at slowly while running over first impression scenarios in his mind. This particular mech had caught his attention long ago, not only with his power, but his intellect, and Optimus thought he was _ phenomenal_. He found himself wanting to know everything about him, more than that of a fan… 

Optimus drank more energon as he pondered it, letting the electric tingle fill his circuits with the boost he needed to finally get off the stool and make his way around the counter. 

The other mech didn’t turn to him as he approached, just shifted his helm and said, “Ah, so you’ve finally made your way over after ogling me for half a cycle.” in that attractively gruff voice Optimus had heard hundreds of times. “I was wondering if you’d sit there until you rusted.”

Optimus warmed at the immediate attention, a goofy smile making its way onto his face. “Just didn’t think I’d see a handsome mech like you here in this dingy bar.” he replied in a cool voice, taking another swing of his drink and hoping Maccadam didn’t hear that last part. 

The other mech’s shoulders shook a bit as he laughed and finally, he turned his frame to face him, smirk accompanying matching red optics that pierced the spark as he critically looked the other up and down. “And to what standard do you hold someone like me? I’m out here enjoying myself just the same as everyone else.” 

Optimus casually leaned an elbow on the counter of the bar, inching his chest closer. “Are you not the great gladiator from Tarn- _ Megatron_?” he whispered, not wanting to attract any other attention, and then added with a dashing smile, “because I think he’s quite the spectacular mech.”

Megatron’s smirk grew into a toothy grin, and if the bar wasn’t so loud, Optimus might have heard his engine rumble a bit. “And if I was?”

Optimus hummed thoughtfully, pretending like he hadn’t thought over this interaction hundreds of times. “Well… I’d wonder why he’s here alone, not surrounded by his fans. For all his amazing feats, surely anyone would want the chance to get to know him better.” _ Up close and personal. _

Megatron just huffed, turning to his cube of fuel. He wouldn’t let it show how much he loved this kind of attention- different than that of the roaring crowds after a match when he’d knocked down his last opponent, different than that of the cameras and interview bots hounding him with hundreds of useless questions.

“And what about you?” he asks, ignoring the question. “You don’t seem like you’re part of the usual crowd here, I’d know if I recognized a strong, flashy mech like you around. What’s your name?”

Optimus wished he’d started with the mask up, because it was too late now to snap it on and hide his dumb expression. Of course he’d stand out.

“It’s Orion.” he answered, wondering what someone with a powerful name like _Megatron_ would think of his own. His frame heated when Megatron offered the stool next to him and said “It’s a handsome name. How about I buy you a drink, _ Orion?” _

“I’d li- I’d love that.” Optimus smiled.

After Megatron waved Maccadam over for two more cubes, he turned back to Optimus- _ Orion _, and held out his drink for a small cheers. He caught Optimus’ optics for a long moment, studying them- they were soft, the blue hue sparkling with determination. It was a contrast to his own, which were a sultry and smug burning red, tempting anyone who dared.

Megatron was lost in his thoughts, caught off guard when Optimus flashed him another striking smile while taking a sip of his drink. He coughed and averted his optics from that handsome face, back to the crowd, “So what do you do, Orion?”

“File clerk,” Optimus answered simply. “Mostly just organizing data among other code for various places. It’s not too exciting, but I enjoy it enough.” He tried not to frown when Megatron chuckled, “Are you serious?”

“Of course- what’s wrong with that? It’s just a job.” Optimus stared at his cube.

“No, no, it’s not the job.” Megatron leaned in, “I just- I just didn’t expect someone with such an...impressive build to be working a desk job. Surely you were made for something better than that.”

“Oh…” Optimus blinked, unable to formulate a response among all the flattery.

“It’s not a bad thing,” Megatron leaned in even further then, his face close to the side of the other’s helm, voice low. “I really admire a mech with a strong processor too.”

Optimus sincerely hoped Megatron couldn’t feel the heat radiating off his face plating this close. Between the bar, the high grade energon, and the mech of his dreams, he was surprised he wasn’t sparking at the seams yet. The rumble of the other’s voice went straight to his audials, that timbre igniting the sensors. 

“I share that sentiment,” he spoke closely, intimately in their sudden shared space, feeling more confident now that Megatron was playing along. “In relation, I’ve been inspired by what I’ve seen of your speeches. I’d never have guessed a fearsome gladiator could give such eloquent and thoughtful presentations. I admit I was taken aback the first time I tuned in to see your Kaon Address, I-I was captivated that day…” Optimus knew he was rambling, but he loved the growing look of flushed admiration reflected on Megatron’s face as he continued.

They began talking in earnest, and eventually the noise and movement of the bar was tuned out by their eager flirtations. As the cycle went on, Optimus shared everything he could think of to tell Megatron- to tell him how much he loved his work and his performance, all without trying to sound like a rabid fan. He had to hold himself back from topics like _ I love how your silver plating looks in the arena _ or _ I can’t stop being fascinated by those long, powerful legs- _ it was a practice in self preservation, but a difficult one at that when it came to the mech he found himself utterly infatuated with. 

The whole time, he watched Megatron’s hidden, flushed expression, watching when he realized they were _ genuine _ compliments and not meant to just conflate his ego. It was as humoring as it was satisfying, knowing he finally sparked something. For all of the matches and interviews he’d viewed, Optimus had never once seen this side of him. Megatron’s mouth would curve slightly every now and then when he would point out something different he admired, or his plating would twitch in contained excitement when their fields overlapped.

Optimus was not unaffected either- his antennae fluttered with anxious energy when Megatron would compliment his paint, or when he got close to ask him something suggestive about his life. Megatron liked touching, he found out, as they grew closer and closer until their helms nearly tapped together, and he had a strong hand laid possessively over Optimus’ forearm as they exchanged teasing quips. Surely they made quite the picture if any of the bar’s patrons paid enough attention to look their way. 

“Forgive me, but you’re just wonderful all around. I knew you were great but I didn’t realize it would be so pleasing just talking to you.” Optimus breathed, his processor becoming giddy from the whole scene. “A-and you’re stunning as well.”

Megatron had hid his flustered state well with a naughty smirk instead. “Straightforward aren’t you, Orion? It’s certainly _ charming_. You better watch yourself.” he said with a finger tapping the other’s chin playfully.

“Is that a threat?” Optimus chuckled, optics crinkled and bright in the dusty light of the bar. They reflected off Megatron’s silver cheekbones beautifully, he noticed. _ This close, he really was a beautiful mech... _

They were close enough to feel each other’s hot vents, the warmth of the space and electrified mood of the bar ramping up circuits. Megatron’s breath barely brushed Optimus’ lips as he spoke, nose almost brushing his cheek. “It very well might be.” he murmured.

“Mm, I don’t mind finding myself in danger every now and then.” Optimus said.

“We’ll see about that…” The hand on Optimus’ arm slid up, gripping the softer plating of his bicep. Megatron was teasing, that deadly smile skimming over the other’s lips as he inclined his helm, only to pull back, testing his breaking point.

Optimus doesn’t let the temptation go, because as soon as Megatron moves back without having touched him, he’s pulling the edge of a grey helm to bring him back in, crashing their lips together, not wanting to miss the moment. It’s not chaste, it’s hot and forceful and Megatron greedily gasps into the contact, face never losing that devilish grin. He kisses back and it’s electrified in the way that their shared excitement mingles.

Optimus pours his admiration into the heated kiss, and only pulls back when he remembers where they are, remaining with his helm inclined close.

“Quite dangerous indeed, friend.” he murmurs, barely heard over the noise of the bar. “A mech could easily get addicted to the risk.”

Megatron’s optics are fire as they’re fixed onto his, looking like he’s never seen a more perfect mech in his functioning. He licks his lips. “You want to try and take that chance?” he asks, sliding a hand up a silver thigh. 

“_Chance _ is out of the question,” Optimus replies. “I already lost the choice the moment I saw you.”

Megatron’s spark jumps as that admission hits him like an energon axe in the arena, and in the next moment, he’s surging back in for another heated kiss, nearly knocking Optimus off his stool, overtaken by the moment. Optimus holds him by the sides of his helm and laughs into the kiss, deepening it when Megatron pushes further, already having forgotten his worries about being right in the middle of the bar. Their touches are light however, hands ghosting along plating, questioning promises for later. 

“You are absolutely perfect,” Megatron whispers against his mouth after a while.

Optimus just chuckles, too overwhelmed, and pulls him in by the waist. He kisses at the edge of his helm affectionately, then his jaw. His chest feels light as Megatron wraps a strong arm around his shoulder, plating shamelessly warm at contact.

“I don’t know about you, but my engine can get pretty loud,” Optimus says, and when Megatron gives him a questioning look, he whispers into an audial “and I don’t want to make a scene here.”

Megatron’s optics widen as he grasps the comment, “That’s pretty indecent, Orion” he laughs heartily, stroking along red chest seams. “Are you suggesting we take this risk further?”

Optimus is already standing, wrapping his hands around solid hips. “Of course,” he says, and then mutters against Megatron’s helm, “I’d love nothing more than to see what a fearsome warrior like you could do outside the arena...”

Megatron just growls hungrily, pulling him in by the chest plates. “Oh, that’s a challenge.”


	2. Chapter 2

Optimus only had a moment to wonder how they’d made it back to his hab so quickly, before he had a few tons of tank pushing him aggressively against the wall. Their engines were rumbling heavily in tandem after the drive back from Maccadam’s, vents hissing from the exertion and excitement, and as soon as he’d shut the door, Megatron was on him like they were magnetized, growling and pulling at plating. Optimus could only gasp as he tried to find his footing, but it proved extremely distracting when Megatron knew exactly which wires to pull and tweak before his vocalizer was already emitting some low, embarrassing noises. 

At some point he was able to bend down and capture Megatron’s lips in a heated kiss, which was immediately met with demanding denta and tongue as Megatron hungrily took what he could. Rough hands grabbed at the glass of his chest, pulling their frames closer together. As their hot plating touched, Megatron let out a small huff when Optimus kissed his way along his jaw and helm, eventually moving to suck on his neck cables. Megatron’s vents sped up rapidly and he groaned.

Optimus hummed, nibbling on a cable. “Revved up so much already?” he murmured.

“If I recall- recall correctly- ah!” Megatron gasped when a tongue licked its way up another cable, hot electric sensation going right to his pleasure net. He felt Optimus laugh against his neck. 

“- _ You _ were the one getting revved up earlier.”

“Perhaps,” Optimus said, mouth drifting back up to peck at Megatron’s lips. “But can you blame me? All that pretty, hot silver plating practically in my lap at the bar?”

Megatron almost made an incredulous, embarrassing noise before Optimus captures his mouth again, smirking. Megatron holds onto that blue helm, pulling back to look him in the optics.

“You make it sound like I’m the most indecent mech around.”

“Oh do I?” Optimus teases, and he quickly drops to his knees, looking up at his partner. He kisses Megatron’s ribbed torso plating, moving down to hips and finally planting his lips against a searing hot panel. “Are you sure it’s not just how much you can’t resist the attention?” He mouths against it, tongue flicking out on the seams.

Megatron swallows a moan at the obscene gesture, helm thudding back against the wall. 

He lets his panel snap back to the warm ventilations against the plating and Optimus hum appreciatively at his valve in full view. He might have also heard  _ beautiful… _ being muttered, but Megatron was rapidly losing all focus a hot mouth dove into his folds. He gasps, still holding on to that blue helm and presses harder, demanding more as Optimus began to flick his tongue, tasting his heat and quickly leaking lubricants.

After a moment of savoring the little noises Megatron was making, Optimus roughly grabbed a leg to pull over his shoulder, opening him up ever more. He rose up onto his knees to change the angle, focusing his attention on sucking the outer node. 

Megatron is molten in his hands, and once he starts lashing his tongue, he’s openly moaning, gasping and grabbing at him as he grinds himself against Optimus’ mouth. Optimus lets his helm be guided a bit, bobbing and sucking at the sensitive node with enthusiasm. He gives it another long kiss before pulling back.

“Is this all it takes to bring down the most powerful gladiator on Cybertron?”

Megatron’s chest is heaving, optics bright with interrupted arousal. “Glitch,” he chokes. “C-cut the game,  _ Orion _ . Make me overload.”

“Mm, I’ll be glad to.” Optimus returns to the task, planting a wet kiss back to the node, and then licks up the length of his valve, catching the lubricants with a lewd noise.

Megatron’s jaw drops open as Optimus nearly mashes his faceplates into him again. He worships his valve, taking care to light up each sensor until the electric crackle snaps against his mouth, and can feel when Megatron’s lubricants become heavy with charge. Optimus grabs at his thighs, massaging the cable as he nearly assaults his valve, encouraging Megatron to grind harder and take what he wants. And he does, nearly putting all the weight of his hips against that helm, pulling him in tight as he starts peaking.

Optimus loves this, loves the intensity of his partner, unafraid of his strength and power. His unpressurized spike is already hard against his panel as he speeds up the movements of his tongue and lips against that swollen node.

Megatron is frantic, growling as he’s on the cusp of overload, plating tightening up as the charge gathers in his gut.

_ [...so beautiful when you’re about to overload…] _ Optimus comms him, mouth focused on driving his charge, and Megatron lets out an embarrassed whimper, hardly processing enough to focus on his words. He barely gets out a choked  _ please, Optimus _ as he’s gasping, vents heaving.

Optimus doubles his effort, shoving two fingers into his valve and that has Megatron coming undone, hips twitching madly as he overloads. His grip on Optimus’ helm tightens as he rides out the charge, moaning jumbled praise.

Optimus works him through the sensations and draws back when it’s too much. He eases Megatron’s leg down before standing and wrapping him in a warm embrace, spark flipping as Megatron pulls him in for a kiss, lubricant and all. It’s dirty and wet, and his panels finally snap back when Megatron shoves a tongue into his mouth. His spike pressurizes to brush against Megatron’s plating and he groans into the kiss when Megatron reaches down to stroke it a few times, hot plating heavy in his strong hand.

“Berthroom.” Megatron says, still venting heavily.

  


* * *

  


Megatron doesn’t look back at he pulls Optimus into the room, and climbs onto the berth, turning around with a smirk.

“Come here, big bot.” he growls.

He sees Optimus stop in his tracks, gazing over the sight of him, splayed out. Megatron is reclined back suggestively, legs open and valve still glistening wet from his overload. It’s not submissive, it’s  _ challenging _ , and Megatron has that daring look in his optics that he knows Optimus can never resist.

In an instant, Optimus is over him, on him. He’s kissing the air from his vents, pressing down with his bulk and Megatron allows it, pulling him further by groping at those wide chest plates, stroking the sensitive glass panels of his alt mode. There’s a tongue in his mouth and Megatron challenges it with his own, teasing. Optimus just pushes harder, revs his engine more in appreciation.

“Why Optimus,” Megatron says in a breathless chuckle when they part. “I’m getting the impression you’re more of a showoff than I am.”

He knows it falls on deaf audials, because Optimus doesn’t respond- well, he doesn’t take a groan as much of a response anyway. Megatron doesn’t mind, and in the next instant he’s wrapping his legs around strong hips and flipping them. Optimus lands on his back with another groan as Megatron is arranged in his lap, a hot and heavy weight. 

“INo matter though,” Megatron murmurs. “It’s my turn now.” he grinds down slowly, wet valve sliding obscenely against Optimus’ pelvic plating, not yet touching his spike.

“ _ Oh, _ Megatron, please- let me feel you,” Optimus grabs at his hips and circles his own upward, moaning at the close sensation. Megatron smirks, leaning forward to rest on his elbows and tips his hips back ever so slightly so that the length of Optimus’ spike rubs through his folds on the next grind. It’s electric and he watches Optimus’ mouth drop open as he repeats it a few times, his lubricants leaking more to create an obscenely wet noise.

“You wanted to see what a warrior can do? Because I’ll warn you,” he leans down to a blue audial, nipping at the antenna. “I’m all power and no show.”

And Megatron sits back, balancing his frame above that thick spike, making sure Optimus is watching his face before he lowers himself on it, slowly circling his hips downward. Optimus open-mouth moans his appreciation, trying to slide his hands up those strong thighs. They’re slapped away and pinned to the berth as Megatron grinds down to take the last bit of his length, seating himself with a heavy sigh. He uses the leverage of pinning Optimus’ hands to balance himself as he draws back and starts a rough pace. Vents hissing, Optimus writhes under his strength.

Sensing his partner getting needy, starts to ride in earnest, his own spike leaking as every node was met with delicious charge. Optimus plants his pedes on the berth, thrusts his hips up to meet him, and the force has Megatron crying out.

“Such a strong bot,” he manages to gasp out, grinding down fiercely, “my one true match, eh?”

He meant it as a quip, but as soon as the words left his mouth, Megatron nearly stops himself mid-thrust.

Optimus really was… he really did… 

Overcome with a burst of emotion, Megatron surges down, capturing his partner’s mouth. He feels Optimus brokenly moan into it, not ceasing the movement of his hips.

“Megatron-” he chokes out. Megatron is nodding, not sure what he was agreeing with- the kiss, the delicious grind of their plating meeting, the emotion of it all? He felt like his spark was ten times bigger as they rode their pleasure together.

After another moment of those addictive kisses, Optimus was pulling his arms, moving, shifting upwards so Megatron rested in his lap, and their motions were slowed down to a deep grind that edged up their charge in slow waves. Megatron was making low noises from the new angle, holding on to red shoulders as Optimus grabbed a handful of aft to keep their balance, the other hand tightly gripping at his back.

“Megatron,” Optimus started again, trying to stall his puffing vents. “I’ve never met another mech who I’ve found so much to connect with- who, who I can really talk to, who I can love, oh-!” he wheezed as the pressure on his spike squeezed tightly and Megatron looked at him in open awe.

“I’m serious,” Optimus said as he tilted their joined frames forward until Megatron lay on his back. He gripped those strong, silver thighs as he thrust back in, still keeping that languid pace. A grating moan left Megatron’s vocalizer at the slow pull and drag against his sensors, letting the noises shamelessly escape his throat, and wrapped his shaking legs tightly around those trim hips. 

“Optimus, I  _ ahh _ \- I said you didn’t have to keep the game up,” he choked out. 

Optimus looked to the side, biting his lip. His hold on Megatron’s hips tightened, thrusts coming faster. Megatron focused his blurry gaze on his partner’s face, watching a furious blush paint across the metal of his cheeks. Optimus was silent for a moment, shutting his optics as he focused on his sharp thrusts. 

“I-I mean everything I say to you, even at Maccadam’s earlier.” Optimus began, still not looking at him. He ducked down, helm resting against Megatron’s shoulder, whispering in a cracked voice, “I really do love you so much.”

“Oh-” Megatron’s chest clenched, spark whirling madly. He ground harder in counterpoint to Optimus’ thrusts as they became more frantic. “Oh Optimus…” 

Optimus finally looked at him, his face open and full of raw emotion. Megatron didn’t think he’d ever get enough of it- that look that was saved for him and him only, so different than the reserved and serious way Optimus held himself regularly. It felt good to have it so exclusively, it felt good to Megatron that he was adored in such a way that was different from that of his fans. In his spark he  _ did _ know that no other mech matched up to him.

He was reaching out before he knew it, pulling Optimus in close as their frames ground together, charge arcing off where they touched.

“You are so wonderful- you have captured my spark like no one else.” he murmured. “I l-love you down to each and every wire and circuit.”

“Ah- Megatron, I can’t…”

“It’s fine, it’s fine- please-” his charge was getting dangerously close to peaking. Megatron wanted Optimus to get there first. He wanted to give him everything. 

Optimus was panting with the exertion, pistoning his hips and he held on tight to Megatron’s pauldrons. Megatron nudged his face away from a shoulder, capturing his lips once again. Optimus whined, delving in further, pushing deeper, tongue and spike working in tandem.

Megatron could only moan louder, and started stroking his own spike as Optimus’ thrusts became erratic, the hands on his plating clenching harder.

“Come on, big bot, let go for me.” Megatron whispered, pushing as much as he could. Optimus was a whirlwind of sensation; his mouth, his hips, the scorching plating pressed tightly against Megatron’s own- he swore he could feel the thrum of his Optimus’ against his own chest as they peaked.

Optimus hurriedly kissed him again, denta clashing as he began to overload, the sharp sensation of his charge snapping off each point they touched. He jerked his hips as his spike spilled, hot and pulsing, the sensation of it electrifying Megatron’s valve. Megatron only had to stroke himself a few more times before clenching down on the spike still moving inside him, his own thick cable spurting onto his chest plates as he let a low, satisfied noise escape his throat. Optimus panted, and continued to grind his hips slowly, making sure to spend all their charge, before reluctantly pulling out.

As soon as he rolled his weight off, Megatron was grabbing at him again, cuddling him close without caring for the sticky mess they’d made. He cupped his partner’s helm as he placed a soft kiss against those handsome lips. Optimus returned it slowly, sleepily, kissing all around Megatron’s jaw and helm just the way he liked when winding down. Everything was soft, the heat of the moment simmering into a comfortable warmth as their hot plating ticked.

After a while, Megatron murmured in a staticky voice, “I don’t think I’ll ever meet another mech like you.”

He saw Optimus blush again, but he didn’t hide, he smiled brightly, making Megatron’s spark flip once more.

“Though I can’t believe you got revved up at the bar.” Megatron laughed, then looked at him in sincere wonder as another thought crossed his processor. “And did you really view my Kaon Address when it aired? All that time ago?”

Optimus nodded, nuzzling Megatron’s helm. “I did. And I knew you were something exceptional that day.”

“ _ Optimus,” _ Megatron playfully jabbed a servo at his chest plates. “You already have my spark, you don’t need to keep sa-”

“I do.” Optimus looked at him, a hard and unmoving emotion behind his soft optics. He kissed Megatron again, long and passionately. “I really do.”

Megatron was breathless when the kiss ended. “Well… I suppose flattery has gotten you this far.” he winked, a devilish smile on his face. 

Optimus chuckled, hugging him close. “Don’t get cocky, Megatron. I might not be able to resist that charm again.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Megatron smirked as he rolled them back over once more. “I suppose I’ll have to prove you wrong.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Cyberverse was really fun, it's amazing how much you can make this MegOp super sappy and love-y <3  
//  
[Twitter](https://twitter.com/baddigital)


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